The Vampire's Luna

Gabriel’s lips curved slowly into a smile. "Explain," he said.

Mira looked down at her hands, ashamed of the trembling fingers that betrayed her. "We have done everything... for almost a century now," she began. "But nothing... nothing seems to be working. Her body rejects it."

Gabriel didn’t interrupt.

"Since the prince’s mate arrived," Mira continued, her sobs quieter now, "she got even more desperate. She began talking about losing everything. And months ago... she decided to fabricate this lie. She told me to help her fake it. To give false records to the court. And... when the time came for her to have a child... she tasked me with finding her a true blood baby. So no one would question it."

Gabriel leaned back in his seat, a gleam of triumph flashing in his eyes as he steepled his fingers. "Fascinating."

Mira felt the bottom of her world fall away. There was no going back now. The truth was out. And she knew that Seliora would tear her apart for this betrayal. But there had been no other choice. Between the devil she knew and the monster in front of her, she had chosen the more dangerous one.

Gabriel gave her a look of amusement. "Well, Doctor Mira. You have just made yourself very, very useful."

"Your grace, please. The king will have my head," Mira begged.

Gabriel turned his head slightly, as though considering her words. He gave her a smile that might have passed for charming had it not been delivered with such surgical precision.

"Don’t worry, I’ll protect you," he said smoothly.

But they both knew it was a lie.

*****

The knock on the bedroom door felt like a hammer against Luna’s heart. She jolted upright in bed, disoriented by the sudden shift from her dreams to reality. She blinked the sleep from her eyes just as Damien threw the covers back and marched to the door.

He yanked it open, one hand gripping the knob.

"What?" he barked. His fangs slightly peeked beneath his upper lip, an unintentional display of displeasure.

The butler bowed slightly. "Your highness, a message just went round to all the council members that there is an emergency meeting."

Damien exhaled slowly, clearly restraining the volcano bubbling beneath his skin. "A meeting that can’t wait until we are awake?" he asked.

"No, your highness," the butler replied. "It was marked urgent."

Damien ran a hand through his tousled hair, muttering, "Who called this meeting?"

"Lord Gabriel."

Damien groaned. "Of course," he muttered, dragging the words out. "He probably couldn’t sleep without finding a new way to cause trouble. Fine, I will be there in a bit."

The butler hesitated, rocking slightly on his heels. "I have a message for the princess also," he added delicately.

Damien stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Luna, already stirring from bed, appeared behind him, her hair cascading in loose waves down her shoulders. Her eyes, though sleepy, narrowed with concern. "What’s going on?" she asked.

The butler dropped his gaze, suddenly finding the marble floor deeply fascinating. "Princess Luna Sinclair, your presence has also been requested in the emergency council meeting," he announced, bowing.

As soon as the butler left and the door clicked softly shut behind him, she turned to Damien.

"Do you think they have issues with the pregnancy announcement?" she asked.

Damien let out a soft breath through his nose and pinched the bridge of it with two fingers before replying. "The announcement is yet to be made. It was to be later today."

Luna gave a slow nod, lips pursed in thought. Then, with the tiniest quirk of her mouth, she turned her gaze toward him. "You do not like your uncle much, do you?"

"I do not like him at all," Damien said, almost too quickly. "He has always had his eye on my father’s throne. He believes it is rightfully his. If he takes the throne, changed vampires will be banished from Blood City."

Luna paused in front of her closet, her fingers brushing the handle of the ornate wardrobe as she processed this. Her brows furrowed. "So we are back to that again," she muttered. "Lineage. Purity." She rolled her eyes, then reached inside the closet and pulled out a simple but stately gown.

"Let’s get ready for this council meeting then," she said.

"Luna..." Damien called softly, stepping toward her. She turned to him again, holding the gown against her waist as he reached out and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. The contact sent a warmth through them both, a steadying pulse of shared breath and unspoken worries.

"You need to be prepared," he said. "You may hear things you don’t like. Attacks on your difference."

Luna met his eyes without hesitation. "I understand, Damien. I am not some thin-skinned princess. I am royalty and have been raised to understand kingdom politics and diplomacy since I was yay high."

She smiled then, lifting her hand and measuring the height of a toddler. "You forget I’ve been in war councils since I could talk."

Damien smiled despite himself. "I know. But I still hate that they’ll look at you and see anything less than the queen you are."

"And I hate that you still think I can’t handle them." She gave him a playful nudge before stepping away and heading for the bathroom to get dressed. "Come on. Let’s face the council together."

He watched her go with admiration, running a hand through his hair. She was right. She was powerful, prepared, unafraid.

****

Damien and Luna were the last to arrive at the meeting. Luna walked beside him, head high, even as the eyes of a dozen council members turned like arrows toward her.

Damien’s hand stayed lightly on the small of her back, reassuring her, guiding her to the space just a few respectful steps from the throne—where, by right of their engagement, she was meant to stand.

Only...

"What is she doing here?" Seliora snapped, venom lacing her tone before Luna and Damien had even settled in.

They both halted in their tracks. Luna’s lips curled into a sweet, sickeningly polite smile that could have iced over hell itself.

"Hello to you too, Seliora," she said.

Damien leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Luna’s temple. "Be nice," he murmured into her ear, barely audible.

Luna simply turned her head slightly, slowly, and gave him a look so sharp it could have castrated a lesser man. Her smile never wavered.

"She always starts it," she hissed back through clenched teeth.

Still, she took her place, standing beside Seliora.

Damien gave Luna’s hand a final squeeze before ascending the platform to take his place beside his father. Luciver nodded once to signal the meeting was now officially in session.

"Gabriel... you called this emergency meeting. Let’s get on with it."

"I will go straight to the point," Gabriel said. "It seems the prince here... and his royal concubine"—he gestured toward Seliora, who straightened proudly—"have lied to us."

There was a wave of murmur flowing through the Lords. Gasps mixed with whispered judgments.

Damien’s eyes flicked across the room and landed on Seliora. But her face was a stone wall.

What did she know?

The tension broke when Councilman Richard stepped forward. His grizzled hair and solemn eyes gave weight to every word he spoke.

"Lord Gabriel," Richard said slowly, each word sharp, "I urge you to consider your next words very carefully... You are dangerously stepping on the line of treason."

Then Luciver smirked. "Let him go, Richard," he said. "Now I’ll have a good reason to kill him. Let him dig his grave."

But Gabriel wasn’t cowed. No, he thrived in moments like these, where drama thickened the air. He raised his chin.

"How about we make this interesting?" Gabriel offered, lifting his arms theatrically. "If I am right—if my accusations are true—Luciver will step down from the throne."

Gasps rang out like a chorus.

Gabriel wasn’t done.

"If I am wrong," he said, "he can have my head."

Luciver’s eyes gleamed, intrigued. "It still doesn’t benefit you. If I step down, Damien takes my place."

Gabriel’s lip curled ever so slightly. "We’ll see about that."

Luciver laughed. "But I’ll take the bet. If only to watch you be wrong... and headless."

Luna slid closer to Seliora. She leaned in.

"What have you done, Seliora?" she whispered.

Seliora didn’t turn to her. Her eyes were fixed ahead, on nothing. But there was a twitch in her jaw, the tiniest betrayal of her mask.

Luna pressed in, eyes blazing. "Speak now. Before it’s too late. If Gabriel exposes you before you speak the truth, Damien is doomed. You are doomed. Think about your child."

Seliora’s lips parted just a little, but she said nothing.

"What’s the endgame here, Seliora?" Luna asked softly, almost pitying.

"Stay away from me! This is all your fault!" Seliora snapped, with her voice low but Luna could clearly feel her trembling.